Guest Norma Cantú Reviews Delicious Day

Guest Reviewer: Norma Elia Cantú reviews Arturo Mantecón, El Día Más Delicioso de Mi Vida. Santa Fe:Prickly Pear Publishing & Nopalli Press,  

Arturo Mantecón’s El día más delicioso de mi vida (link) is an “as-told-to” tale that weaves hybrid narrative and poetry; it includes a rambling fast-paced meandering that geographically covers wide terrain but remains anchored in Laredo, Texas where the Streets of Laredo song merges with the narrator’s fantastical and surreal world where animals have surreal appearances and the terrain and the story or non-story are intimately bound, como en un Mobius strip. 

The book’s Foreword by Rubén Medina, an Introduction by Iván Argüelles, and the author’s own preface signal the nature of what is to come: a delightful linguistic romp told by Mantecón’s alter-ego, Emeterio “el chango” Landeros, born of the author’s  own imagination and a fitting guide through the world of South Texas. Emeterio is a cousin de Mantecón and whispers his story in Mantecón’s ear.

 Mantecón in his foreword offers a sort of genealogy whereby we find the relationship between the author, Arturo Mantecón , and Chango, his cousin.  The Most Delightful Day allows Mantecón to show off his dexterous meanderings through a fantastical world that is only too real. When I first read the rbook, I was taken by the Spanglish and the premise of a disembodied Chango narrating the content to Mantecón. Moreover, because I am from South Texas, the terrain felt real;  I felt a kinship with the nicknamed Chango (at one time named Changó) and his musings. I sit right there next to him as he sits on a bench in Laredo’s Bruni Plaza. I know the place well, I know the streets he names and the characters who dwell in that phantasmagoric world of the border. When the Circo Fantasma is gone in a poof of air, and only el Cerro de la Silla—the magnificent hill (almost mountain) in the shape of a saddle-- is seen on the horizon, I imagine the wide-open range around Cadereyta and the distant view of Monterrey y los cerros. It is a terrain that is at once mythical and real. Equally at home in Laredo or in Austin, I travel with him on this his most delicious and delightful day.

A folklorist who studies life cycle rituals, I was taken by the funeral where Chango’s tía Hermenegilda is buried; the scene was all too familiar to me. We encounter characters and scenes reminiscent of Garcia Marquez or Cervantes, but with the weaving through of contemporary cultural manifestations and of literary references to “red wheelbarrow” or German thinkers.  To enjoy this Mantecón’s mind-trip through the landscape one doesn’t need to be from the area or well-versed in the issues and problems that the community faces. I know only too well, the gods that roam the streets and the characters who lie or who guide. Asking ‘where are you from? or how did you get here? He repeatedly encounters wild stories. He is not disappointed to hear these wild stories that have brought people to the border and the stories of those who have always been there. It makes me wonder what other fantastical days Chango has experienced and whether Mantecón will tell us of them in some future instalment. Confronted with a giraffe on 6th street in Austin or with a blonde octogenarian at the wheel of a baby blue convertible? It is all possible. A beautiful Indian maiden riding a horse in a parade? Perhaps a reference to Pocahontas in the George Washington’s Birthday parade in Laredo—may appear to be figments of his imagination, yet, none of these are strictly phantasmagorical and indeed are real absolutely and explicit to that border reality.

The magic and the surreal world of the border and especially Laredo comes alive in Chango’s experiences. Others have commented on the linguistic agility of codeswitching or Spanglish, what we now call trans-languaging, and so I must also. While I admire the effort, it didn’t’ always ring true for me and felt a bit forced at times. Perhaps because it is my language and I can discern some misuses as well as some Chicano Spanish verb uses. And here and there, misspelled words too. However, the general sense is one of wonder and fantasy. The illustrations and black and white photographs add verisimilitude but could be better executed; they were often blurry.

In the style of Ron Arias’ Road to Tamazunchale,  Mantecón’s El día mas delicioso de mi vida takes us on a quixotic trip aboard his mustard yellow Citroën. We travel the wild linguistic and geographical spaces in a daze of wonder and awe. And we are the better for it! I invite you to take spin and let yourself be driven/taken for one day in this phantasmagoric world.

Meet Today's Guest Reviewer

Norma Elia Cantú currently serves as the Norrien R. and T. Frank Murchison Professor of the Humanities at Trinity University in San Antonio, Texas, where she teaches Latinx and Chicanx Studies.  

Her most recent publications are: Meditacion Fronteriza: Poems of Love, Life, and Labor and the novel, Cabañuelas. 

She has edited or coedited over a dozen anthologies, most recently: Teaching Gloria E. Anzaldúa: Pedagogies and Practices for our Classrooms and Communities, co-edited with Candace de León Zepeda and Margaret Cantú-Sánchez and meXicana Fashion, Politics, Self-Adornment and Identity Construction, co-edited with Aída Hurtado.